Prey
by innocent words
Summary: "For a split second his skin touches mine and I resist flinching. His closeness is an attempt to frighten me. He thinks he has won, he believes I am submitting myself to him but I will not yield so easily." One-shot. Death of tribute.


**Prey**

* * *

_"Choose your last words, _  
_This is the last time_  
_Cause you and I, _  
_We were born to die"_  
- Lana Del Ray

* * *

I am running.

My breath hitches as I leap over a hollow tree trunk. The surrounding area is a luscious green and I disturb it's nature with my pounding feet as I sprint to what I think is safety. I am trying to be quiet but failing miserably, gasps of my obvious panic escape my lips. There are echoes of voices amongst the forest, sounds which used to be distant but they now seem closer than ever. _They_ are gaining on me.

I was such a fool. _Stupid_ to think I could take on the career pack. Why didn't I just grab some supplies and disappear? Then I might still have a chance, but no, instead I thought I would risk my life obtaining a few weapons. Even though I wielded that sword with beautiful accuracy, I did not prepare myself. It wasn't like in the training rooms where we practised on targets, it does not even offer a glimpse of the horrors you encounter when you slice the flesh of another; in real life, blood splatters nearby objects, strangled cries deafen your ears and the sickening noise of metal clashing with skin haunts your waking moments.

My mentor had instructed me not to risk anything unless I knew I would succeed. I had been distracted by his enchanting sea-green eyes and ruffled bronze hair. I remember the feel of his arms around me, whispers of final tactics, an expression of anguish upon his face as they led me to the arena. He had been a mentor that cared about his tributes, no matter how much the Capitol painted him as their property.

My mind kept being dragged back to the same simple fact: I was going to die. My family would be watching right now; I can picture my baby brother, his eyes blurry with tears, I had told him to be strong but he isn't as brave as he pretends to be. I was the courageous sibling, the protector of the family, but how useful was a dead girl going to be?

I hear a roar of laughter close by and I know that they have found my tracks. Soon they will close in on me, like a pack of wolves chasing a frighten doe. The hunter has become the hunted, now I am the _prey_ . . .

. . . _The minute countdown has begun; the time left is shown on a screen inside the cornucopia. My brain is working so rapidly I cannot see straight. Should I choose flight or fight, either result is unclear. I look around at the other tributes. The careers have blood-lust in their vision, I can tell by the way they shift around on their podiums, and snarl as they ready themselves to sprint. Am I faster enough to outrun them?_

_The seconds tick by, "48, 47, 46.."_

_I look to the supplies surrounding the cornucopia. There is an axe resting against the side, glistening in the sunlight. Across from it is a rack of swords ranging in size, I spot the one I want almost immediately. I am best with a sword but I am not stupid; the boy (if you could even call him that) from District 2 favours swords and that will be what he lunges for. I don't fancy getting in his way._

_"34, 33, 32.."_

_Cato, that is his name. The large brutish killer with a short-temper. My eyes search the arena for him, sussing out where the danger lies. He is five places to my right, and I hear my heartbeat increase as I realise that his piecing blue eyes are already upon me. His mouth twitches up into a savage smirk as he sizes me up, his fists clench and unclench at his sides and I know he is imagining my death. I try not to look intimidated so I don't break eye contact, but I am extremely unnerved. Cato's muscles seem to bulge through his shirt, boosting about the fact that those arms could crush me in seconds._

_"24, 23, 22.."_

_I focus back onto my goal. I have made my decision, I'm going for a backpack. I am fast, I could quickly grab it and make for higher ground. _

_My eyes flicker to my district partner, who is only 12, and I take one last look at his messy brown curls and freckled face. His pale skin is unusual for District 4, unlike mine which has been tanned by the merciless sun. I should be allied with him, should protect him, but that would just make it too complicated. His odds are good anyway: 15-1. He may survive the initial bloodbath._

_I concentrate my mind, and stare at the backpack. This is it._

_"5. 4. 3. 2. 1."_

_I run. I run as fast as I can manage, and for a moment I think I am going to make it, that I'll simply grab my supplies and leave but, of course, it isn't that easy. I am tackled to the ground, the air knocked out of me. I scramble upright to see the District 1 female dive for me a second time, but she has no weapons yet, and I am ready for her. I shove past her and continue my sprint; luckily she does not pursue me, but I hear her scream in frustration. _

_Now I am disorientated, I've forgotten the direction of my target and I stand for a moment in a daze. Just as I return to reality, the District 6 appears in front of me and tries to slash me with her sickle. I quickly dodge her advances, the blade nicking my arm as I protect myself. _

_The girl has a crazed look about her, as though she knows she has to kill. Her hands are shaking with unwillingness but she continues her attempts to stab me. I think about calming her down, telling her she doesn't have to play this game but I am struck by the realisation of where I am. My instinct of survival overtakes all other thoughts. Remembering my training, I shift on my feet like a dancer and when an opening presents itself I punch my attacker in the temple. She collapses but the blow, that should have knocked her out, has not made her drop her weapon and she clutches it still._

_I brutally beat the girl, angered by the fact that she intended on murdering me. Why didn't she just let me go? Composing myself, I set off into flight again, leaving the traumatised tribute shivering on the grass. Trying not to mull over what I have just done so savagely, I head deeper into the bloodbath. This is a bad idea. All my previous plans have now been abandoned, I know I'm going to need a weapon if I'm going to survive this battle. _

_I prevent myself from scanning the area, aware of the screams and the disgusting smell of blood. I notice the girl from 7 pick up an axe resting against the side of the cornucopia so I rashly hit her in the back of the head and steal the axe. In response, she flees from me. There is so much chaos happening everywhere that I struggle to think straight._

_I then see the swords presenting themselves to me on the back wall, tempting me to take one. I look around to check no one is after me and I lunge for one appropriate for my size. I hear rustling in the corner, when I turned a familiar face stares up at me. My district partner is huddling in the corner, watching the gory scenes happen around him. He seems so vulnerable in this moment and I hesitate about leaving him. _

_The District 3 female stumbles in and desperately tries to force the sleeping bag out of his hand, __and I look on as though paralysed. On a protective impulse, I use my sword to slice her legs, making her knees buckle. She shrieks in pain and I wince at how deep the cut looks. What did I just do? I sprint out of, what was soon to be, a death trap._

_For a second, everything slows down, as though time is giving me a moment to catch my breath. I feel bile in my throat as I watch Cato cleave the boy from 5. Cato sees me glaring and his eyes latch onto mine as he slices the boy's neck. The space between us seems to lessen and he manages to make the kill so much more... intimate. Those eyes, they have always been watching me: the chariot ride, in training, the interviews. Now they are full of hunger and such intensity, it would normally make me shrink in fear. But today, I stand my ground. He desires my death more than others. It makes me sick. That sadistic bastard. __Even now he smirks at me, as though he can read my thoughts. He doesn't even look human, with that feral gleam in his eyes, as though he would tear me apart. I find myself snarling at him, like an animal and he gracefully twirls his weapon. He is taunting me. Blood drips from both of our swords, his creates a small pool of crimson liquid._

_I cannot continue this disturbing staring match any longer and courage fills me. I charge at him as expertly as I can muster while he patiently waits. I know it is foolish, but my body is possessed, and I cannot stop myself. I swipe my sword across his toned abdomen but he jumps back so the result is only a swallow cut. Nevertheless this has angered him and his sword clashes with mine when he strikes. He is too strong and I have to divert his blade, making sure that it stays away from me. In one last failed attempt, I swing my sword at his head but he simply ducks._

_The next thing I know, my face is colliding with a crate. Cato has disarmed me and flung me violently into the object. He looks down on me, superiority shining through him. I am now on my hands and knees, my back on the grass, my dark eyes wide in fear. He should kill me now, but instead he grins at me with an evil menace about him, and I know what he's going to do. He'll deal with me later._

_Move. _

_I take the opportunity to turn and run. I don't look back, knowing full well that the last of the tributes are being killed. The backpack is in my view, and I grab it as I sprint past. I head for the trees, hoping that they will be my salvation._

_I should have stuck to the plan . . ._

. . . "Marina! What you running for?"

I hear the girl from 1, Glimmer, shout at me. They have caught me, I know it. I dare not respond to her, I save what are sure to be my last moments alive; I don't want to waste them.

What should I do? Ahead of me the trees are thinning and there is an opening in the forest. A green plain presents itself: the worst area possible to fight back. I should have climbed a tree, or hid somewhere, but it would have all been unless; _he_ is hunting me.

An excruciating pain suddenly ripples through my heel and I cry out in pain. I nearly fall but I recover and limp onward. A knife has ripped through my achilles tendon, meaning I cannot put any weight on it. Furious; I turn around to face them.

Clove smiles slowly at me, her silver blades decorating her body. _Bitch_. To anyone, her small frame and tiny size is misleading for a girl from 2, but what she lacks in strength, she more than makes up for in agility and speed. She is one that relishes the screams of her victims, the thrill of the kill. She could have butchered me with a few flicks of her wrist but instead she simply wounded me.

Beside her is the boy from 1, with his spear in hand. He also could have effortlessly killed me, one throw and I would be down. Glimmer smirks at me, her beautiful face splatted with blood, those green eyes so alive with anticipation. They are all ready for the day's entertainment; my death.

Lastly, I look at Cato. His sandy hair is ruffled from his swift movements, tainted by the blood of his victims. _Sand. _I miss sand. I miss the beach I'd lay on for hours at a time, gazing at the beautiful ocean. I would do anything to be back there now, but instead I was reaped, and I have to face the repercussions.

His sword glistens in the sunlight, and he looks to his pack, his voice coming out like a growl, "She's mine."

Clove looks disappointed. I bet she was yearning to carve me up like a chunk of meat, her fingers stroke her knives confirming my thoughts that she did want to _torture_ me. Glimmer simply pouts, as though she has been denied one of those precious gemstones her district specialise in. They all long to hurt me; their resentment began to grow ever since I turned down the offer to join their pitiful alliance. If I were to go back, I wouldn't change a thing.

"Changed your mind yet, Four? Still want to play it solo?" Their just toying with me now, fatting me up for the slaughter.

Cato continues to take deliberately unhurried steps toward me, he pays not attention to his allies, his eyes rest on my face. His irises are such an intense shade of light blue that they could be two blocks of ice boring into me - threatening me. His peers yell encouragement at him, telling him to slice my belly open or crack my skull. I can barely listen to their poison a moment longer. I stand defiantly, with my legs spread wide, my jaw lifted and my shoulders back; they will not frighten me.

I know my ankle is no use but I will fight back nevertheless, all I know is that I can't let him get into arms distance from me. He'll crush me like a bug, but I cannot die while all four of them watch. I rapid examine the area of forest to my right, and I know that I can make it there if I ignore the agony. It's my last chance. Unfortunately, Cato - who has been inspecting me this whole time - notices my glances and he breaks into a sprint just as I do.

The pain is blindingly unbearable and I can feel myself close to unconsciousness. Just a bit more.

I have exited the clearing, and I swerve past a few trees only to be tackled to the ground. For a bulky character, Cato is extremely silent when he pounces. The force of the impact send us both rolling across the leaves and we fall into a dip in the forest floor, but he is on top of me before I can register how many bones have been broken. He holds my clutching arms at bay above my head, with one of his massive hands. His body presses down on my legs, preventing movement. I am utterly trapped.

Not surprisingly, he smiles arrogantly at me, "Now, you are a feisty one to take down. I hope you're worth it." I squirm beneath his touch, trying to reach him so that I can head butt him or something, anything, but it is not use, it only seems to excitement Cato more.

"How does it feel to be helpless?" He asks, but I refuse to answer him. I will not give him the satisfaction. He thumb presses into the wound I acquired on my arm sending a fresh flow of blood pouring down my elbow. "Nasty cut you have there." His thumb now travels to my face and he grabs my cheek, smearing my own blood across it.

"Just kill me," I say, keeping my face rid of emotion.

His thumb runs over my bottom lip, his hot breath gliding over my skin. My vulnerability is achingly obvious. "I want you to _beg_," he presses down harder on my hips, knowing that they will not be able to take the impact, "beg me for death."

I can't help but let out a gasp as I hear a slight crack. I have to tread carefully, I know he wants to hear me scream. I look him steadily in the eye, not showing signs of weakness.

Cato leans in closer and whispers in my ear. "I've killed people like you. They try to be brave, try to keep their dignity intact, but in the end, they all bleed the same, no matter who you are. I wonder how long you will take to _break_." For a split second his skin touches mine and I resist flinching. His closeness is an attempt to frighten me. He thinks he has won, he believes I am submitting myself to him but I will not yield so easily.

"Is that what they teach you at the academy?" I snarl, my resentment showing. "District 2. Known for creating hollow children starved of humanity, filling up their empty space with bitterness and hatred." I can see it now when I study Cato's bright eyes, they simmer with rage. He hates everyone and everything, even himself. "What age did they hook their claws into you?" Another crack from my hip as he pins me harder and a small scream escapes my lips. I continue relentlessly, even though I am pushing my luck. "Eight? Nine? When did they start to train a young boy to adore suffering?"

"Enough!" He growls, both of his giant hands already tightly wrapped around my tiny throat. I've angered him, because he doesn't want to consider his past, all he cares about is killing; it's all he has. He doesn't _break_ my neck though, even though he could so simply. It is as though he is waiting for something, but even he doesn't know what.

He has let my hands go but they lie limply where he dropped him. I could grab Cato's sword which is sticking out of the ground next to him but it would be no use. Cato would finish me before I touched it.

However, I am content to die.

I always knew _he_ would be the death of me. I sensed it from the beginning. I'm drawn to the wrong people. The _fucked up_ individuals, as I call them.

I stare up at Cato's bemused face and for some unknown reason, a small smirk appears on my lips when he grins at the purple bruises he has caused on the pale flesh of my throat. I have truly gone mad, and it makes me want to hysterically laugh, if only it was humorous.

"So delicate," he observes.

Without thinking, I brazenly reach out to him. He catches my hand aggressively but he doesn't stop my fingertips from brushing along his jawline. He is a child wronged by the world and I realise that I do not blame him. It is not all his fault he turned out the way he did, however evil he is, we are all just pieces in their game. I will always despise the Capitol, with a passion.

"Kill me." I command.

He analyses me and that's when we hear them. The other careers calling out for him, searching for us. I completely forgot about them, I was too transfixed in a state of horror and curiosity.

Now.

It has to be now.

Cato understands this.

He lifts his sword.

And plunges it through my heart.

_I am floating upon the vast ocean. The rhythmic waves soothe my worries and, for a second, everything is gentle. But soon the weather changes abruptly, and the waters transform into a uncontrollable storm. I am dragged down by the sea's undercurrent. I struggle and thrash as I try to break the surface of the waves, but I am unsuccessful. I breathe in the salty liquid and it drowns my tired lungs, all instinct to survive has been subdued. I stop fighting it, and accept my fate. The storm passes. Everything is quiet now, just how I like it, and instead of sinking into the darkness, I reach out towards the light. My vision is becoming blurring, my mind slowing. This is how it is meant to be. The ocean wraps me in it's kind embrace and I accept with gratitude. _

_I am home, at last.  
_

* * *

**Authors note: This was a One-shot that I was inspired to do when I watched The Hunger Games again the other day. I noticed that the District 4 Female escaped the bloodbath but she was announced dead later on. After doing some research, I found a great opportunity to be creative and I always love exploring the mental instability of Cato. I started writing this with no idea how it would turn out but I am happy with the outcome and I hope you guys are too. This is strictly based off the film-version of The Hunger Games (tried to stick to it as accurately as possible).**


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